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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460570">tomatoes for horses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/caniculeo/pseuds/caniculeo'>caniculeo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, atsuhina is chaotic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:35:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27460570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/caniculeo/pseuds/caniculeo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Are we seriously breaking up?” Atsumu demands. “Again?”</p>
</blockquote>on being apart, and coming back together.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>520</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>tomatoes for horses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>one day, <a href="https://twitter.com/zelcarat">zel</a> messaged me about how tomatoes are toxic to horses, and i thought, "wow. atsuhina," and here we are</p><p><strong>warning</strong>: this fic is a rather optimistic take on an unhealthy relationship (on-and-off, mutual insults, slight possessiveness).<br/>also, this pretty much goes without saying, but do not use this as a model for any real-life relationship. this is fanfiction written by a bottle of extra virgin olive oil that likes happy endings. </p><p>honorary writing song on loop: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/1PSBzsahR2AKwLJgx8ehBj?si=Z49z6ZBQRHKTrCU0zFniaQ">bad things</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are we seriously breaking up?” Atsumu demands. “Again?”</p><p>He’s on the verge of tears, Hinata notices. If this had been a year earlier, Hinata would’ve folded, would’ve tripped over his feet to kiss the tears off of Atsumu’s face and tell him <em> no, no, Atsumu-san, don't cry</em>. But it gets old after the third or fourth time, and right now Hinata just feels… stressed. Don’t get him wrong: he’s not happy about Atsumu crying—he never is—but it’s not enough to get him to stay anymore. </p><p>“What do you think?” Hinata says, grabbing his bag. There’s more of his stuff in Atsumu’s room—clothes and books and video games accumulated over time—but he can’t be bothered to stay any longer. He’s trying to be calm, but he’s simmering under the surface with anger and hurt and a whole lot of wounded pride. A volatile mix. </p><p>“Oh, come on, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu says, with his trademark cocktail of hurt and annoyance. He’s half-whining, which Hinata hates. “Can we skip this part this time around? I’m sorry, okay? You know I didn’t mean it; I just say things and I don’t think—” </p><p>Hinata glares at him. “What part?”</p><p>“You know,” Atsumu says, “the part where you storm off for like three days, and then you come back eventually because you miss me.”</p><p>God, is he an absolute idiot? Who the hell says shit like that at a time like this? </p><p>“Atsumu-san,” Hinata says, “seriously, screw you.” </p><p>He heads promptly to the door, Atsumu following close on his heels. Hinata puts on his beat-up sneakers and tries to ignore every word that comes out of Atsumu’s mouth. </p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Atsumu is saying, desperate. He reaches out and grabs Hinata’s wrist. “That came out wrong. Sorry. I just meant—” He takes a breath, exhales. “Don’t go. Please. I’ll be lonely. I love you, okay? I love you.” </p><p>“Don’t fucking touch me,” Hinata says, wrenching his wrist out of Atsumu’s grip. Atsumu might be bigger and taller, but Hinata has always been stronger. He heads out of the house and doesn’t look back. “Don’t call me, either.” </p><p>“Fine!” Atsumu yells after Hinata, quick to anger like he always is. “Fine! Screw you! Why the fuck would I call you, anyways—”</p><p> </p><p>Atsumu calls Hinata. </p><p>Repeatedly, incessantly. Hinata should probably block his number. </p><p>“You should probably block his number,” Kageyama says, glancing at the phone screen lighting up for the fourth time in twenty minutes. </p><p>“Probably,” Hinata says, but just stares at his phone as it nearly vibrates itself off the desk. At this point, he could use it as a sex toy. Atsumu would be into that.</p><p>The phone finally stops buzzing, its screen extinguishing like it’s exhausted. The two of them get approximately three minutes of peace and quiet, and then it starts up again. The poor thing. It’s probably begging for help at this point, praying to the god of second-hand electronics. </p><p>This time, however, there’s a different name on the screen. Kageyama raises an eyebrow. Hinata deliberates for a second, then picks up. </p><p>“Osamu-san?” he says. </p><p>“What the fuck?” It’s Atsumu. Hinata resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You’ll pick up for Samu, but not for me? Shouyou-kun—” </p><p>Hinata hangs up. He feels Kageyama looking at him, almost judgmental. Or as judgmental as Kageyama can get, anyways. </p><p>“What?” says Hinata. </p><p>“Nothing,” Kageyama says, and takes a sip of his milk, looking back down at his notes.</p><p>Hinata pokes him in the cheek. “Come on, spit it out.” </p><p>“Then you can't get mad at me,” Kageyama says. </p><p>“I won’t, I won’t,” Hinata promises. </p><p>Kageyama gives him a look. “Is it actually for good this time?” he finally asks. “Or are you gonna get back together with him in… three days? Again?”</p><p>Hinata opens his mouth, incensed. Kageyama fixes him with a look: <em> you said you wouldn’t get mad. </em>Hinata shuts his mouth, and tries to be a little less incensed. </p><p>“Why would you say that?” he asks primly, tucking a loose curl of hair behind his ear. </p><p>“Well, you guys always do,” Kageyama says. “This is… what, your fifth breakup?”</p><p>“So what?” Hinata says, irritation bleeding into his voice. </p><p>“I’m just saying there’s a pattern,” Kageyama says. “You don’t have to get all angry about it.” </p><p>“I’m not,” Hinata says brightly, flipping to a new page in his biology notebook. He is. It’s truly a new level of sad to have Kageyama pick out your relationship patterns. But then again, they’re best friends. And the pattern isn’t exactly hard to see. Maybe Hinata should give him some credit. </p><p>“He’s bad for you, Hinata,” Kageyama says. He tilts his head, thinks. “Like chocolate for dogs.” </p><p>Ever since his sister had adopted a beautiful, life-loving mutt from the shelter, Kageyama has been a little obsessed with animals. Or, correction: he’s always liked animals, though they’d never quite liked him back. But this dog—Hotaru, Hinata remembers—is so indiscriminate with her love that Kageyama had finally, finally gotten a taste of animal affection, and now spends a good portion of his time spouting dog facts, which is pretty endearing, really. </p><p>“Are you calling me a dog?” Hinata asks, absently doodling scribbles on the margin of his notes. “That’s kind of rude, Kageyama-kun.”</p><p>“You can be the chocolate,” Kageyama says. “If you want. The dog’s bad for the chocolate too, I think. If it eats it.”</p><p>Hinata hums. His current doodle has somehow transformed itself into a dog. It’s pretty ugly, as dogs go. Nothing like Hotaru. Hinata gives the ugly dog a collar and a tag, and christens it Miya Atsumu-san. </p><p>Hello, Miya Atsumu-san. Sit, Miya Atsumu-san. Roll over, Miya Atsumu-san. Stop lashing out at me whenever you happen to be feeling jealous and insecure, Miya Atsumu-san. </p><p>Hinata sighs, puts down his pen. Thinks about Kageyama’s question that he’d left unanswered: <em> is it actually for good this time?  </em></p><p><em> Of course, </em> Hinata wants to say. But he’s not completely self-unaware. He’s been here before: hating Atsumu’s guts, relishing every desperate phone call that decimates his phone’s battery. Thinking, <em> that’s it, I’m gonna go find someone new, and forget about Atsumu-san forever, and he’ll be jealous and bitter about me for the rest of his life. </em> But somehow, somehow the feeling always fades. And then Hinata will fold, and he’ll call Atsumu to say <em> I’m coming over in fifteen </em> or something like that, and Atsumu will just say, <em> okay. Buy some condoms, we ran out. </em>Like nothing’s really happened. </p><p>It’s stupid. Hinata hates it. <em> No more, </em> he thinks. <em> Never again. </em> And then he realizes that this is probably the fifth time he’s thought those exact same words in the exact same situation, and he lays his head down on the table, defeated. After a moment, Hinata feels a gentle touch on his hair. Kageyama is petting him like he’s a dog. </p><p>“There, there,” Kageyama says, like he’s reading the words out of a book. He’s truly awful at this, but hey. At least he’s trying. </p><p>Hinata sighs and closes his eyes. There’s a dull ache in his chest—the hurt and misery settling in—and all he can think about is the way Atsumu had looked when he’d been begging Hinata not to leave. <em> I’ll be lonely, </em> he’d said. </p><p><em> Well, </em> Hinata thinks. <em>You and me both, Atsumu-san</em>. </p><p> </p><p>They’d met for the first time at some nondescript drinking party held discreetly at Hinata’s freshman dorm room. Hinata had taken one look at Atsumu—the light blond hair, the pretty face, the cocky grin and sheer <em> height</em>—and thought, <em> God, I wanna climb him like a tree. </em>And Atsumu had probably been thinking something similar, because after a few instances of reciprocated staring, he’d made his way over to Hinata and sat down close to him on the worn couch.</p><p>“Hey,” he’d said, grinning lazily. “I’m Miya Atsumu. Do you come here often?”</p><p>“I mean—I live here,” Hinata had said, already laughing. </p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu said, taken aback. “Right.” And then, recovering, “So what’s your name?” </p><p>It hadn’t been hard to hit it off with each other, not with the way Atsumu looked at Hinata and talked to him. For most of the night, Hinata almost forgot that other people aside from Miya Atsumu even existed. And when the party had started to die down, when they’d both grown sleepy and quiet from all the drinking and talking, Atsumu had reached out, curled his hand around the nape of Hinata’s neck, and kissed him. </p><p>The kiss hadn’t felt like being kissed by some random almost-stranger at a college dorm party—it’d felt like something else entirely, and Hinata had found himself almost a little scared at how quickly he was falling. </p><p>“I’ll call you,” Atsumu had promised when he was leaving. “So don’t forget about me too fast, Shouyou-kun.” </p><p>And that had been the beginning of it all. Atsumu called Hinata the next day, and Hinata called him back the day after that, and so on and so forth. They never saw each other much on campus—they were in different years and programs—but somewhere along the way, the calls turned into study dates or volleyball dates or whatever they felt like doing. And then the study dates naturally became <em> hey, Shouyou-kun, wanna come over</em>, which became—well. What it usually becomes. </p><p>But they hadn’t been official until one day a few months later, when Hinata had found himself in bed with some kind of nasty flu intent on cockblocking him for the entire week, and texted Atsumu, <em> sorry, atsumu-san, im not feeling too good. i’ll see you when i get better.  </em></p><p>He’d woken up, groggy, to Atsumu knocking at his door. </p><p>“Hey, it’s me,” Atsumu said. “Your roommate let me in.” </p><p>“Oh. Okay. The door’s unlocked.” </p><p>Atsumu had let himself in, had settled down by Hinata’s bed and taken his hand. </p><p>“Sorry,” Hinata said quietly, smiling. “I’m not really up for it today.” </p><p>“Oh, come on,” Atsumu said, taking in Hinata’s flushed face, and kissed his forehead. Tender, concerned. “That’s not what I’m here for.” A sigh. “You should’ve called me, Shouyou-kun. I would’ve come earlier.”</p><p>“It’s not a big deal,” Hinata murmured. </p><p>“The hell it isn’t,” Atsumu said, and rummaged around in his bag for a bit until pulling out a container. “You haven’t been eating properly, have you? I brought you soup. Can you sit up?” </p><p>So Hinata had propped himself up against his pillows, waited for Atsumu to bring a spoonful of soup to his lips. He’d swallowed, and promptly almost choked. </p><p>“Oh my god,” Atsumu said, obviously panicking. “Is it that bad? Shit, I knew I should’ve had Samu make it instead—”</p><p>“No, it’s just—” Hinata coughed, took a sip of water. Laughed. “It’s fine, Atsumu-san. It’s just hot.” </p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu said. “Sorry, I’m not really used to this, I—” He took a breath. “Want more?” </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>So Atsumu fed him, blowing on the spoonfuls of soup like Hinata’s life depended on it, and as Hinata watched him, amused and fond, he’d realized—had known all the way down to his bones: <em> this is the one. He’s the one.  </em></p><p>“Atsumu-san,” Hinata said, after he’d finished eating. He found himself smiling.  “Wanna be my boyfriend?”</p><p>And Atsumu hadn’t said anything, had just set down the container on the nightstand and descended on Hinata like the setting sun, kissing him like it was the end of the world. And Hinata had kissed back, grinning with the sheer joy of it all, and then remembering: “Atsumu-san, Atsumu-san, wait—I’m sick, you’ll get it from me—” </p><p>“I don’t care,” Atsumu had said between kisses, “I don’t <em> care</em>, I won’t get sick—I’m your boyfriend. I’m your fucking <em> boyfriend</em>—” </p><p>He’d gotten sick not even a day after that. Stupid, beautiful idiot. Miya Atsumu, the one and only. </p><p> </p><p>After that, things had been smooth sailing for a good while. They had their honeymoon phase, where they couldn’t get enough of each other, where they’d fuck anywhere and anytime just for the simple thrill of being together. Hinata met Atsumu’s friends and Atsumu had met his, and everyone would pretty much say the same thing: <em> wow, you guys are perfect for each other. </em> So Hinata, young and naive and entranced by being in his first real relationship, had believed this wholeheartedly. </p><p>But then the fights started. Small at first, about stupid things like Hinata not helping to make the bed after he sleeps over, or Atsumu eating all the expensive ice cream Hinata had been saving for a special occasion. And then they started to get more frequent, more personal. </p><p>For all his projected coolness, Atsumu is clingy. Needy. Like a pet with separation anxiety. He’s prone to jealousy and insecurity, maybe as a result of being compared to Osamu his entire childhood, and it comes out of him in the worst ways when he’s upset. And perhaps worst of all, Atsumu never watches his awful, awful mouth, just blurts out whatever he’s thinking at the moment, no matter how cruel it is. And since Hinata has always been the type to punch back, the two of them end up just absolutely decimating each other with words. Hurting and being hurt, again and again and again, until it becomes too much. </p><p>But even after all that, they come back to each other eventually. No matter what happens, no matter how bitter the fight. It’s like every road Hinata takes curves and loops and bends and leads right back to Miya Atsumu. Maybe that's what people call fate. Or idiocy. Hinata’s friend Akaashi, literature student and all-around nice person, would probably have something deep to say about that. But Hinata doesn’t study literature, and all he can truthfully say about the whole thing is that it’s a sad, giant mess. </p><p>And, well. Here they are. Fifth breakup. Still going strong with not going strong. </p><p> </p><p>“Well?” Hoshiumi tilts his head, birdlike and expectant. Almost wise. “What’d Atsumu say this time?”</p><p>Hoshiumi is in the same program as Hinata, but a year above him. They’d had a little bit of a flirty, competitive thing going in the beginning of first year, where they’d try to finish tests faster than each other, to get better grades and lift heavier at the gym. Nothing serious, though. Hoshiumi’s hot, and he seems like he’d be a good lay, but Hinata’s never quite felt anything more for him than platonic affection. And now, he’s the only housemate that Hinata has who’s not completely introverted. </p><p>“He said that I was so self-obsessed I might as well just fuck myself,” Hinata says darkly, poking at his food aggressively. The insult still stings. </p><p>Hoshiumi whistles softly. “Ouch.” He takes a sip of water. “And what’d you say before that?” he says. </p><p>Hinata presses his lips together, caught. Hoshiumi knows him too well at this point. </p><p>“I called him pathetic,” Hinata says, voice low. Hoshiumi looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “And needy.” And then, louder, “But am I <em> wrong</em>? I’m just trying to like—rest after class, and he just always wants to talk and cuddle or something, but I’m trying to <em> rest</em>. I’m tired.” He pins Hoshiumi with a glare. “Is it illegal to be tired, Hoshiumi-san?” </p><p>“Well, no,” Hoshiumi says, actually smiling now. If they weren’t so close, Hinata would be annoyed, because Hoshiumi’s obviously amused by his turmoil. “But it’s not illegal to be needy either, right?” </p><p>“I never said it <em> was</em>—”</p><p>“Your problem,” Hoshiumi says, talking over Hinata like he’s wont to do, “or one of them, anyways, is that you guys are way too good at insulting each other. Hitting each other where it hurts, you know? But you’re both sensitive too, so…” He tilts his head. “Yeah, I don’t know. You guys have a lot of problems.”</p><p>Hinata groans. “Help me stay mad at him, Hoshiumi-san,” he says. “I don’t wanna keep doing this.” </p><p>“What, the on-and-off stuff?” Hoshiumi asks. </p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata says. “It feels so stupid. I feel so stupid.” </p><p>“You don’t need to stay mad at him to quit that,” Hoshiumi says, shoving a piece of broccoli in his mouth. “You just have to think a little. With your head. Not your dick. Or this.” He taps to the left of his sternum. “Control yourself, you know?” </p><p>Hinata feels kind of insulted. “You think I don’t try?”</p><p>“I think,” Hoshiumi says, as brave as ever, “you can try harder. If you really wanted to.” He glances at the clock, and fairly leaps out of the chair. “Oh, crap. I’m late for night class. I’ll see you later, Hinata!”</p><p>“Bye, Hoshiumi-san,” Hinata says, and watches Hoshiumi run full-tilt out of the house, amused. The door slams shut behind Hoshiumi, because he still doesn’t really know his own strength. A few seconds later, he bursts back inside the house and grabs the backpack he’d left at the foot of the kitchen table, then sprints back out again. </p><p>Hinata allows himself a smile, but then his attention is diverted to his phone screen, flickering alight silently. He’s turned vibrate off at this point, and just stares at the words <em> Miya Atsumu </em> while they’re displayed, feeling hollow. He lets it ring, lets the phone rack up the number of missed calls like they’re points at a volleyball game. But it doesn’t feel good anymore—it’s the second night, and now he just really wants to pick up, if only to just yell at Atsumu a bit. Around this time tomorrow, Hinata will probably be calling him, and then they’ll fall into bed without so much as an apology to each other, and be back in the honeymoon phase by morning. Wash, rinse, repeat. </p><p><em> No, </em> Hinata thinks, catching himself. It’s tempting, but he’ll try harder this time. He’s tired. Of himself, of Atsumu, of the both of them together. Hinata picks up his phone, his hands a little unsteady. It’s easier to block Atsumu on everything and delete his contact information than he thought it’d be. But when Hinata finishes, his heart is pounding and his blood is rushing in his ears, like he’s been running, and he almost feels lightheaded. </p><p>There’s the sound of the front door opening and closing. Hinata leans back to see who it is—Hoshiumi again? </p><p>“Oh!” he says. “You’re back, Ushijima-san.”</p><p>Ushijima nods. His glasses are a little foggy—it must be cold outside. “Hinata,” he says, by way of greeting. And then he frowns. “Are you alright? You don’t look well.” </p><p>Hinata puts on a smile. “Oh, I’m fine,” he says, as convincingly as possible. “I’ll be fine.” He shoves his phone into his pocket. “Come eat, Ushijima-san! I made food.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s not so bad actually being single again. Hinata has always enjoyed his freedom—not in the sense of sleeping around, but in the sense of being himself. Now, he can do whatever he likes without having to consider someone else. He’s the only one in the equation. It’s easy like this. Simple. Admittedly, it takes a little getting used to, but Hinata thinks he manages alright. He’s gone no contact with Atsumu for a week now, and he feels… not great, but okay. He’s okay. </p><p>“Shouldn’t I be crying?” Hinata asks Kageyama one day. “Don’t people usually cry for stuff like this?” He’s a little proud of himself. </p><p>“How would I know, dumbass?” Kageyama mutters. He takes a sip of his water and scrolls through his phone. </p><p>Unlike Atsumu, Kageyama doesn’t like to talk that much while working out. Hinata tries to respect that, but he’s also considering switching Kageyama for Hoshiumi as a gym buddy. He’s too used to chatting between sets by now. </p><p>“Sorry, Kageyama-kun,” Hinata says, “I forgot you were a virgin,” and promptly has to dodge a blow aimed at his head. </p><p>So, yeah. Hinata’s doing surprisingly alright. If he’d known how easy this would be, he would’ve done it three breakups ago. Hoshiumi had been right—all Hinata had needed to do was grit his teeth and try harder. Think with his head. Do one small, tiny thing that he probably should’ve done eight months ago. And here he is now, cut free. Untethered. </p><p>It’s still a process, though, and most of it is just refusing to think about Atsumu and filling up the empty time that has emerged as a result of Atsumu’s absence. This is alright. Hinata’s got nothing if not friends. And his housemates, as eccentric as they are, are pretty good about the whole thing, too. The four of them—even Ushijima, busy as he is—like to play video games together during the evenings, an unofficial tradition that they’d started ever since Hinata and Kageyama moved in at the end of their first year. These days, they end up doing it more often: whenever Hoshiumi notices Hinata sighing, he promptly yells, <em> let’s play Smash</em>! and bolts into Hinata’s room, where the communal Switch is. </p><p>Hinata is grateful. His friends love him. He’s doing good in school. And there’s nobody to sour his mood with heated arguments over stupid, petty things. He should be happy, and yet he feels…  unsettled. Like he’s floating still, waiting to land.</p><p><em> It’s alright</em>, Hinata tells himself. It’s only been a few weeks. Things will get better. They’ll get better.</p><p> </p><p>It’s an unspoken rule that Hinata isn’t really allowed to talk to Atsumu’s friends anymore. Not that Atsumu had outright said anything—he’s conspicuously silent, probably having gotten the message after a few days of Hinata blocking him. He doesn’t even try to get through to Hinata with Osamu’s phone, which is a little surprising. Hinata had expected a little more of a fight. Deep down, he’s almost… disappointed, though he’d never admit it, since that’s an awful, awful thing to think. </p><p>Regardless, the rule still stands, even without external reinforcement. Hinata knows how these things are supposed to go, so he doesn’t take it too personally when Suna and Aran don’t really chat with him at the gym anymore. He is a little wistful, though—they’d been friendly, and he’d gotten along well with them. But Hinata probably misses Osamu the most. They’d ended up being such good friends that it made Atsumu jealous sometimes: <em> you’d better like me more than you like Samu, Shouyou-kun. </em> And Hinata would laugh, because Atsumu is stupid sometimes and inclined to sulking about the dumbest things, and he’d say, <em> I like you more than anyone, Atsumu-san! You should know that. </em> </p><p>Ah, well. You can’t have everything in life, and you most certainly can’t have your ex’s best friends and twin brother after a messy breakup. It’s surprising, then, that Hinata runs into Osamu at the grocery store, and Osamu doesn’t just look away and pretend they don’t know each other. At first, Hinata almost mistakes him for Atsumu, and his heart rabbits in his chest. But then he takes in the dark hair, the placid expression, and relaxes. </p><p>“Oh,” Hinata says. “Hi, Osamu-san.” </p><p>Osamu looks conflicted. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Hinata asks, puzzled. </p><p>“I’m trying to remember if I’m allowed to talk to you,” Osamu says, brow furrowed. “I think I am.” He shrugs. “Whatever. It’s been a while. How’s it going, Shouyou-kun?”</p><p>“I’m good,” Hinata says. He smiles. “I’m good! I finished all my midterms, so.” </p><p>“Oh, nice,” Osamu says, a small smile on his face. </p><p>“How’s food school?” </p><p>Osamu huffs, amused. “Food school’s good,” he says. “We made some fancy French stuff today.” </p><p>“Aww,” Hinata says, wistful. “I miss eating your leftovers.” </p><p>“I miss you eating my leftovers,” Osamu says. “But I don’t think I should bring you food anymore, because—well. You know.” </p><p>Hinata looks away. “I know,” he says. “Sorry.” </p><p>“It’s not your fault,” Osamu says, shrugging. “Just the way things are.” </p><p>Hinata nods. “How is he?” he asks, because he can’t help it. He doesn’t have to elaborate. </p><p>“He’s… doing good,” Osamu says. “Like you.” </p><p>“Oh.” Hinata’s not quite sure what he’s feeling. “That’s nice.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Osamu says. He runs a hand through his hair a little sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “About you guys.”</p><p>Something inside Hinata’s chest clenches. “It’s fine,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “Really. We just—we weren’t good for each other. That’s all.”</p><p>“I mean, yeah,” Osamu says, “but still.” </p><p><em> But still. </em>Those two words are almost enough to knock Hinata off-kilter, a sharp reminder that no, he can’t just sweep it all under a rug with the simple, blanketing proclamation that he and Atsumu had been bad for each other. That there is something to be sorry about now that everything is over, because it had been good more often than not, good and pleasant and wonderful. </p><p>Hinata shrugs with difficulty, feeling like a small planet has descended on his shoulders. Puts on a smile. “It is what it is,” he says. All of a sudden, it really hurts to talk to Osamu. After all, it is impossible to look at him and not think of Atsumu, at least a little. “Well, it was nice to see you, Osamu-san.”</p><p>“Oh,” Osamu says, getting the message. “Yeah. I’ll see you around. Maybe.”</p><p>“Later!” Hinata says, trying to sound cheerful. He smiles politely and leaves Osamu in the snack aisle, his heart pounding in his chest. It’s only when he’s gotten home that he realizes he’d missed almost half the items on his grocery list. </p><p> </p><p>In the third week of Hinata’s post-Atsumu era, Ushijima brings a pet to the house, much to everyone’s collective excitement.</p><p>“Oh my <em> god!” </em>Hoshiumi says, staring at the carrier. “Is that a dog?”</p><p>“No,” Ushijima says. “It’s a cat.” </p><p>As if somehow telepathically summoned by the presence of an animal in the house, Kageyama emerges from his room, the stairs squeaking under his steps. He’s very obviously trying to hide how excited he is. Hinata wants to laugh. </p><p>“A dog?” Kageyama asks.</p><p>“No,” Ushijima says again. “It’s a cat.” He blinks. “My aunt’s cat. I’m taking care of her for a few weeks.”</p><p>“I didn’t know you had an aunt,” Hoshiumi says. </p><p>“Who doesn’t have an aunt?” Hinata asks, frowning. </p><p>“Well, he never talks about her—”</p><p>“I told you all about this weeks ago,” Ushijima says, frowning. “Do none of you remember?” </p><p>There’s a moment of silence. Hinata presses his lips together and looks to the side, feeling a little guilty. Now that he thinks about it, he has a vague recollection of Ushijima bringing it up once or twice in the group chat, but he’d been so absorbed in his breakup that he’d simply liked the message and promptly started to rip on Atsumu through a long rant. </p><p>“Well, it’s alright,” Kageyama says. “We’re all okay with it.” His expression dares Hoshiumi or Hinata to say otherwise. </p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata says. He crouches down next to the carrier to look inside, and a pair of green eyes gaze back curiously at him. “Can we let her out, Ushijima-san? What’s her name?”</p><p>“You can open the door,” Ushijima says. “We just call her the cat. Because she’s a cat.”</p><p>“Ten points for creativity,” Hoshiumi says, huffing.</p><p>“Thank you,” Ushijima says. </p><p>Hinata hides a grin and unlatches the door, opening it slowly. There’s a moment of silence, the four of them waiting with bated breath, and then the cat pokes her head out, curious. Almost instinctively, Hinata reaches out to pet her. </p><p>“Wait,” Ushijima says, sounding concerned, “she’s shy. She might scratch—”</p><p>It’s too late. Hinata touches the silky, cream-coloured fur between the cat’s ears. The cat looks at him, and after a moment, she starts to purr. </p><p> </p><p>The cat loves Hinata. Almost obsessively. It gets to the point where she meows and paws at Hinata’s door if he forgets to let her in before going to bed. Hinata is delighted. His housemates are jealous, even though none of them admit this out loud. </p><p>“Talk about playing favourites,” Hoshiumi says, as he watches the cat snooze in Hinata’s lap while they all study together at the living room table. </p><p>“I miss Hotaru,” Kageyama says, looking like he’s swallowed a spoonful of salt. </p><p>Ushijima looks up from his notes. “Cats can tell when you’re sad,” he says. “Maybe that’s why.” </p><p>“What’s <em> that </em>supposed to mean?” Hinata says, frowning. “I’m not sad.”</p><p>“He means that none of us have broken up with anyone in the past month,” Kageyama says, “except you.”</p><p>Hinata clicks his tongue, offended. “You’re all just that jealous that she likes me the best, huh?” he says, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “I’m not <em> sad</em>, okay? I’m just good with animals.” </p><p>There’s a moment of collective disbelieving silence. Hinata glares at all three of his roommates. “Oh, whatever,” he says, mutinous. He closes his laptop and picks up the cat, who is apparently the only reasonable person in the Hinata-Kageyama-Hoshiumi-Ushijima household. “Come on, cat! Let’s go to bed.” </p><p> </p><p>“Wait, you’re going away for the weekend too, Hoshiumi-san?”</p><p>Perched in a kitchen chair, Hoshiumi grins, looking excited.“Yeah, I’m gonna go visit Sachirou, it’s his reading week or whatever—” He takes a bite of pizza, pauses. “Oh, man. Hinata, you’re the only one staying here, huh? Kageyama’s going home, Ushijima’s going home… are you gonna be lonely?”</p><p>“Why would I be lonely?” Hinata asks. </p><p>Kageyama blinks. “Because you’re still not over—”</p><p>Hoshiumi whacks him on the back of the head with what seems like unnecessary force, and Kageyama shuts up. Hinata’s glad, though—it’s not too hard to guess what Kageyama was about to say, and he could really go without hearing it. </p><p>“Well, it’s fine,” Hoshiumi says. “You have other friends, right?” </p><p>“Of course I do,” Hinata says. </p><p>Hoshiumi gasps, mock-furious. “How dare you?” he says. “That’s not allowed.” </p><p>Hinata laughs, plays along. “I’m sorry!” he says. “I was lying—I would <em> never</em>. You guys are my only friends, Hoshiumi-san.” </p><p>“Yeah, that sounds right,” Hoshiumi says. He grabs another slice of pizza from the box and shoves it in Hinata’s mouth. “Eat! You look skinnier these days. I’m gonna end up heavier than you if you don’t watch your back.” </p><p>Hinata chews and swallows obediently. “If you say so, Hoshiumi-san.” </p><p>Hoshiumi glares at him, though there’s no heat behind it. Kageyama grabs two slices of pizza, folds them over each other like some kind of weird sandwich, and takes a huge bite. </p><p>“Bet I can eat more than you,” Hinata says. </p><p>Kageyama glares at him. “Bet you can’t.”</p><p>“Bet you guys are both paying me for every piece you eat,” Hoshiumi says, clapping them both on the back. “I bought this, remember.”</p><p>“Aww, Hoshiumi-san—”</p><p>Hinata is interrupted, mid-protest, by the cat meowing rather loudly at them, perhaps out of hunger. They all stare at her. </p><p>“Oh, don’t yell, you can have some,” Hoshiumi finally says, holding out a small piece of pizza. The cat sniffs at it interestedly, pink tongue darting out. But then Kageyama promptly slaps the pizza out of Hoshiumi’s hand, and she bolts out of the kitchen. </p><p>“Dude!” Hoshiumi exclaims, equal parts confused and annoyed. “What the fuck?” </p><p>“There’s tomato sauce on it,” Kageyama says. “Tomatoes are bad for cats. And dogs. You shouldn’t give her that.” </p><p>Hoshiumi glares at him. “Well, can you maybe say that next time instead of hitting me?” He picks the piece off the ground. “Jeez.”</p><p>“You hit me first—”</p><p>Ushijima enters the kitchen, walking past them to get to the fridge. “They’re bad for horses too,” he says. “Tomatoes.” </p><p>“What?” says Hinata. “But they’re plants.”</p><p>Kageyama huffs. “Just because it’s a plant doesn’t mean a horse can eat it,” he says. “Dumbass.” </p><p>“Virgin,” Hinata mutters, just loud enough for Kageyama to hear, and then sprints out of the room before Kageyama can hit him, unpaid pizza and all. </p><p> </p><p>The weekend comes quickly, and soon Hinata finds himself bidding farewell to his housemates at the door. </p><p>“Hey, Hinata,” Hoshiumi says. “Let me know if you wanna play Smash online or something, ‘kay? I’ll kick your ass either way, so.”</p><p>“Call us,” Ushijima says, “if you need anything.” Kageyama nods. </p><p>“Thanks,” Hinata says, grateful. He grins. “But you guys don’t have to worry about me! Seriously.” He’s made sure that his weekend isn’t completely depressing and uneventful—Akaashi and Bokuto have invited him over for drinks tonight, which is bound to be fun. Hinata loves them. </p><p>“Well, if you say so,” Ushijima says. He opens the door. “Don’t forget to feed the cat.” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Hinata says. “See you guys!”</p><p>The three of them wave at him before they leave, shuffling out into the cold evening. The door closes behind them. The house is suddenly very quiet. </p><p>But then the cat meows at Hinata’s feet, needy as ever, breaking the silence. Hinata feels a rush of affection, and reaches down to pick her up. Her warmth is grounding, reassuring. Hinata takes a deep breath. </p><p>“I won’t be lonely,” he says, out loud. To the cat, to the empty house. “I’ll be okay.” </p><p> </p><p>It’s nice to finally let loose a little at Akaashi’s place, to see him and Bokuto again. But on his third drink, Hinata realizes that he’d forgotten to feed the cat before he left. </p><p>“Didn’t know you had a cat, Hinata!” Bokuto says, grinning. </p><p>“It’s Ushijima-san’s,” Hinata says, feeling guilty. God, he literally had one job to do for the most loving creature in his life, and he’s botched it. </p><p>Konoha, Akaashi’s roommate, seems to find this information particularly amusing. “Ushiwaka has a cat?” he says, grinning. “That’s unexpected.” </p><p>“Is it, though?” Akaashi says, sitting down on the couch next to Bokuto and passing him a drink. </p><p>“Yeah, totally,” Konoha says. “He seems like a dog person, doesn’t he? Like the kind of guy who trains his dog to—I don’t know. Talk or something.” </p><p>“You’re drunk, Konoha,” a girl calls from the other side of the room.</p><p>“And what about it?” Konoha says proudly.</p><p>It’s a relatively small gathering: around ten people, mostly Bokuto and Akaashi’s friends. Hinata doesn’t really know too many of them, but they seem friendly on the whole. He’s not quite in the mood to meet new people, so he just hangs around Bokuto and Akaashi, a little cautiously at first—he’s hyperaware that they’ve started dating recently, and might want their own space—but they soon make it clear that they still like him around just as much as before. So Hinata sits peaceably at their feet, his back against their legs as he watches Konoha and the girl get into a drunk shouting match. </p><p>Akaashi puts a hand briefly on Hinata’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about them,” he says.</p><p>“Oh, don’t be!” Hinata says, turning back to him and smiling. He takes a sip of whatever’s in his cup—something fruity and sweet but probably quite alcoholic despite the taste. “Your friends are fun, Akaashi-san.”</p><p>“Yeah, we have good taste,” Bokuto says, grinning. He reaches down to ruffle Hinata’s hair, and Hinata grins. </p><p>The night goes fairly smoothly. Hinata talks, laughs, tries not to drink too much—he can’t stay over; he has to feed the cat. </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, the cat,” Bokuto says, grinning. “You have to feed her. We know.” </p><p>“She also gets upset if I don’t sleep with her,” Hinata says fondly. “So I feel bad leaving her alone, you know?”</p><p>“Sounds like someone I know,” Akaashi says, nudging Bokuto’s knee with his own. “I used to think Bokuto-san was super clingy,” he tells Hinata, his voice gentle and teasing, “but that’s nothing compared to what he’s like now.” </p><p>“Akaashi,” Bokuto half-whines, burying his face in Akaashi’s shoulder. “You know it’s just ‘cause I like you so much—”</p><p>“I know,” Akaashi says, fond. He kisses Bokuto on the forehead. “It’s not a bad thing. I know you.” <em> I know the way you love me.  </em></p><p>Seeing them together like this makes something in Hinata’s chest ache deeply. He’s envious; he’s admiring. He wonders vaguely whether he and Atsumu had ever looked like that, back in their early days, before the fights. Bokuto and Akaashi are so kind to each other, so understanding of the differences between them. So open with their feelings. </p><p>Hinata looks at them, and thinks of Atsumu. He cannot help it. He thinks of the ways they fell apart, of what he should’ve done. It seems so obvious in hindsight: all Hinata had ever had to do was be kinder with Atsumu, less selfish. Think a little more before speaking. Tolerate some clinginess, some petty arguments. Say <em> I love you </em>more often. Why, why had it been so hard to show that he cared when Atsumu had so obviously wanted it, needed it? When Atsumu had been everything in the world to him, and even now, despite all the bitterness, Hinata just wants him to be happy? That’s all he’d had to do, ever. </p><p><em> It’s okay</em>, Hinata thinks to himself, almost desperate. <em> It’s okay. Next time, I’ll— </em></p><p>And then he remembers—realizes—that there is no next time, that he and Atsumu are done for good now. Because he’d chosen this. Because of one stupid fight, because of one stupid thing Hinata had said. Because he’d been selfish, and would have rather started a fight with Atsumu than cuddle and talk with him after class. Because he is awful, terrible, at loving someone and being loved. </p><p>Hinata feels the blood rushing in his ears, the sudden, sharp ache in his chest that is so intense that he barely recognizes it as loneliness. It’s like all the pain, all the sadness that he’d been holding at bay the past few weeks has crashed down on him all at once. Hinata sets down his drink, stands up shakily. He can’t stay here anymore, with all these happy people, with Bokuto and Akaashi who look so beautifully in love. Hinata’s miserable. God, he’s miserable. He just wants to go home. </p><p>“Hinata, where are you going?” Bokuto asks, putting his hand on Hinata’s shoulder. His touch feels like a brand—Hinata jerks away almost instinctively, and Bokuto raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“Sorry,” Hinata says, and puts on a smile. It feels like the hardest thing he has ever had to do. “I’m not feeling too good, and I—I really need to feed the cat. I think I’m gonna go home.” </p><p> “You’re not feeling well?” Akaashi says, frowning. Concerned. “Do you want medicine or something? I’m sure we have—”</p><p>“No,” Hinata says. “No. I just—I’ll feel better when I go home, Akaashi-san. Don’t worry.” </p><p>Bokuto and Akaashi share a look. “Well, if you say so,” Akaashi says. “You aren’t going to walk, are you?”</p><p>“It’s not far,” Hinata says. “I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.” He smiles. “Seriously.”</p><p>So they see him off at the door—<em>call us when you get home, </em>Akaashi says, because he is lovely and caring and more than Hinata deserves. It’s snowing softly outside, perhaps one of the last snowfalls of the season. The cold air clears Hinata’s head a bit, but as he makes his way home, he finds himself getting drowsier and drowsier. Perhaps he should’ve just should’ve coughed up the cash and taken a cab or something. </p><p>Despite the cold, Hinata’s mind starts to wander again, and all he can think about is Atsumu. God, everything always leads back to Atsumu, even when it doesn’t. It’s been more than a month now, but Hinata still remembers everything about him so clearly—his smile, his laugh, the sound of his voice. Almost unconsciously, he thinks back to an early morning, months ago, at the end of an all-nighter together because Atsumu had an exam scheduled at nine AM. Hinata hadn’t been doing much, had just been helping Atsumu go through notes and flashcards, both of them a little high on sleep deprivation. And as the sun rose, shining through their window, Atsumu had looked at Hinata—dark circles, messy hair and all—like he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. </p><p>“Shouyou-kun, I’m fucking crazy about you,” Atsumu had said, out of the blue. “God, I love you so much. You don’t even know.” </p><p>“I do know,” Hinata had responded, grinning giddily. </p><p>“No,” Atsumu said, smiling softly. “No, you don’t.” </p><p>Well, maybe he’d been telling the truth. They’re different people—it’s impossible to really know what someone else feels. But then Atsumu can’t truthfully say he knows the way Hinata loves him, either. </p><p>Every goddamn atom in Hinata’s body is in love with Miya Atsumu. All the way down to the electrons and neutrons and protons and the empty space in between. Maybe, Hinata muses, it’s an undiscovered law of physics that needs to be explored by some nameless graduate student trying to sleep with their supervisor. He wouldn’t be surprised. But even when they study it, they’ll find nothing except the fact that it’s true. It will always be true. </p><p>Hinata Shouyou loves Miya Atsumu. What a hell of a thesis. </p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Hinata manages to make his way back home. </p><p>Relieved, he inputs the door code, but all he gets is a buzzing, discontented noise from the lock system. Hinata frowns, too tired to be truly irritated, and tries again. And again. After the fifth try, he gives up. It’s broken. Of course it’s broken, just when it happens to be cold and snowing and Hinata is miserable and the cat hasn’t been fed dinner yet. Hinata doesn’t even have the energy to cry. He just slides down in front of the door and leans against it. Closes his eyes. </p><p>Hinata only realizes he’s fallen asleep when he wakes up and the door is moving, opening and swinging inward. Losing his support, he almost falls. When he looks up, half-squinting into the warm light of the house, he sees Atsumu of all people standing over him. </p><p>Atsumu gazes down at Hinata like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Hinata is too tired to be truly shocked, but he finally pieces everything together, as addled as his mind is. </p><p>“This isn’t my house,” Hinata mumbles. </p><p>“No,” Atsumu says. “No, it isn’t.” </p><p> </p><p>Atsumu leads Hinata inside the house and lets him sit down on the couch. Gives him something hot to drink, dries his hair with a towel. Covers him with a blanket. Hinata feels a little like he’s dreaming—everything feels fuzzy and soft around the edges, and he’s too tired to register anything properly. He dozes off for a bit only to wake to hushed voices: sometime in between his sleeping and waking, Aran had come downstairs, and is now talking to Atsumu quietly.</p><p>“...I just found him passed out outside—I think he’s just drunk and mixed up our addresses...”   </p><p>“Yeah, that must be it—”  </p><p>All of a sudden, Hinata remembers the cat, and jerks into wakefulness. “I have to go home,” he says hoarsely, getting up only to sway on his feet. “I didn’t feed the cat, I—I have to go home—”</p><p>“Hey,” Atsumu says, gentle. He gets up, makes his way to Hinata’s side and steadies him so he doesn’t fall. “Hey, Shouyou-kun, relax. We’ll get you home.” </p><p>“Should I call a cab?” Aran asks. </p><p>“No, that’ll take longer. His place is just across the field in the back.” </p><p>“Okay,” Aran says. “I can take him. I know you—”  </p><p>“No,” he hears Atsumu say. “I’ll take him, he’s my—” A pause. “I’ll take him.”</p><p>“Well, if that’s what you want,” Aran says, after a moment.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a bit,” Atsumu says. “Just go to bed, Aran-kun. We’ll be okay.”</p><p>Aran says something, but Hinata doesn’t catch it. The drowsiness is hitting him again, and he leans heavily against Atsumu’s side. Atsumu puts Hinata’s arm around his shoulders, half-carrying him, and they make their way outside. As they go down the sidewalk, Hinata keeps dozing off, which makes it pretty hard for them to walk at a decent pace. Eventually, Atsumu stops. </p><p>“I don’t think this is going to work if you keep falling asleep,” Atsumu says. He turns his back to Hinata, bends his knees a little. “Can you get on?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata murmurs, and ungracefully attempts to jump onto Atsumu’s back. It takes a few tries, but he manages. Atsumu straightens up, his hands firm under Hinata’s thighs, and starts to walk. </p><p>“Why are you being so nice to me, Atsumu-san?” Hinata murmurs, after a moment. “We broke up.”</p><p>“We really did, huh?” Atsumu says softly. “Well—I still care about you. I’m not supposed to, right? I’m sorry. But I do.” </p><p>“You don’t have to be sorry,” Hinata says quietly, before he can stop himself. “I still care about you, too.” </p><p>Atsumu laughs, soft. “That’s nice to hear,” he says. “Thought you’d forgotten about me entirely.”</p><p>Stupid Atsumu. <em> How could I? </em>Hinata wants to say, but he’s interrupted by his phone going off in his pocket. </p><p>“You gonna take that?” Atsumu asks. </p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata murmurs, and answers the call. It’s Akaashi.</p><p>“Hinata,” Akaashi says. “Are you home yet?” </p><p>“I got a little lost,” Hinata says. “But it’s okay. My—a friend’s taking me home.”</p><p>“Oh, okay,” Akaashi says. “That’s good. As long as you’re alright.” </p><p>“Yeah.” Hinata feels his eyes closing. “Thanks for inviting me tonight, Akaashi-san. Tell Bokuto-san I say thanks, too.” </p><p>“Sure,” Akaashi says. “Anytime.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Akaashi-san.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Hinata.”</p><p>Akaashi hangs up, and Hinata puts his phone back in his pocket, laying his head down on Atsumu’s shoulder again. </p><p>“You sort that out?” Atsumu says. </p><p>“Yeah,” Hinata says sleepily. </p><p>There’s a moment of silence as they make their way across the snowy field. Everything is so silent, so soft. Hinata is almost lulled to sleep until Atsumu breaks the silence.</p><p>“So,” Atsumu says, sounding too casual for it to be natural. “Who’s Akaashi-san?” </p><p>Oh, he’s jealous. <em> Cute, </em>Hinata thinks, and nuzzles into Atsumu’s hair. If he were still angry at Atsumu, he’d probably say something misleading and cruel, but he’s not angry. Not at all. He’s just drunk, and tired, and more than a little sad. </p><p>“Bokuto-san’s boyfriend,” Hinata says quietly. “My friend.” </p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu says, and the relief in his voice is palpable. “Didn’t know Bokuto was dating anyone.” </p><p>“Just started,” Hinata murmurs. He feels himself drifting off again. </p><p>“Ah,” Atsumu says. </p><p>More silence. If Hinata were less exhausted and more lucid, this situation would be awkward beyond imagining. But he’s not, and he just feels a sense of quiet comfort at Atsumu’s familiar presence, but also a sadness that settles deep into his bones. Because here they are, so close to each other. And yet. </p><p>It doesn’t take long for them to get to Hinata’s street. Hinata tightens his hold on Atsumu just a little, feels Atsumu’s grip tighten on his thighs as well. He doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want this to end. But soon, they are at Hinata’s doorstep. </p><p>“Shouyou-kun, we’re here,” Atsumu says quietly. “I’m gonna let you down now, okay?” </p><p>“Okay,” Hinata murmurs, and feels Atsumu let go. He relinquishes his hold on Atsumu’s shoulders and stands unsteadily, clinging to Atsumu almost instinctively. Atsumu inputs the door code—he still remembers, of course he does—and they go inside together, Atsumu closing the door behind them. </p><p>They take off their shoes, and Atsumu helps Hinata shed his coat, his sweater. Gets him to drink water. Leads him into his darkened room, onto the bed, and pulls the covers over him. And then he makes to leave, just like that.</p><p><em> No, </em> Hinata thinks, even as he’s too tired to really move, <em> no, please don’t go. Please, I’ll do anything, just stay—</em></p><p>There’s a meow from the foot of the bed, loud and insistent.</p><p>Hinata opens his eyes with great effort. “The cat,” he says weakly, “I have to feed her—”</p><p>“Don’t worry,” Atsumu says, quiet. “I’ll take care of it.”  </p><p>Too tired to object, Hinata closes his eyes again as Atsumu leaves the room, and soon there’s the faint sound of rummaging in the kitchen, of cat food being poured into the food bowl. The cat’s meowing moves away into the kitchen. Vaguely, Hinata wonders: does Atsumu like cats? He had never really bothered to ask, but maybe he should’ve. Now he’ll never really know.</p><p>He drifts off into a shallow not-quite-sleep. He’s half-dreaming when Atsumu and the cat return to his room, when the contented cat curls up next to his head, purring. There’s the soft, warm feeling of someone stroking his hair, and Hinata hears Atsumu exhale.</p><p>“I really fucked up this time, didn’t I, Shouyou-kun?” Atsumu says, quiet. A sigh. “I know you probably don’t care anymore. But I’m sorry. I just—started taking us for granted, somewhere along the way.” He touches Hinata’s cheek gently, soft and lingering. “I’m sorry. I miss you. I miss us. I even miss our arguments, can you believe that?” </p><p>Atsumu laughs, soft and sad, before speaking again. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t say stuff like that, now that we’re—” A shaky exhale. “Sorry. Take care of yourself, Shouyou-kun. The cat’s fed, so don’t worry.” One last touch, as gentle as rain. “Goodnight.”</p><p>Atsumu leaves uncharacteristically quietly, and Hinata is left wondering if he’d dreamt it all up—if somehow, his subconscious had given him exactly what he’d wanted to hear. But he is too tired to wonder much, so he’s asleep in a matter of minutes, his mind cloudy and his heart both hopeful and hurting at once. </p><p> </p><p>Hinata wakes up to the cat’s purring. </p><p>For a few moments, he just stares up at the ceiling, trying to process the events of the night before. The pain and longing have settled into his chest, lodging themselves somewhere inside his ribcage like something solid and tangible. He can’t go on like this: lying to himself, to everyone else. Trying to numb himself. Hinata isn’t built for doing any of that. He’s naturally honest to a fault, and he feels the world at double intensity. </p><p>The cat meows, voice raspy and petulant, and Hinata gets out of bed shakily to open the door and let her out. He trails behind her as she sprints into the kitchen with the velocity of a furry bullet, and promptly starts crunching on the leftover kibble in her bowl. </p><p><em> Ah, </em> Hinata thinks. So he hadn’t been dreaming, after all. Atsumu had came, had fed the cat. Had left. He sits down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. The house is quiet and still. </p><p>In the midst of that cold, lonely silence, Hinata thinks. At their lowest, he and Atsumu bring out the worst in each other: the selfishness, the pride, the biting words. By now, Hinata knows that Atsumu is bad for him, and that he is bad for Atsumu in kind. Like chocolate for dogs and tomatoes for horses. They don’t go well together, should be kept apart as much as possible. </p><p>And—well, that’s the simple explanation of things, but it’s not really true, is it? Because a tomato cannot help being bad for horses, just as horses cannot help being what the tomato is bad for. But they are not tomatoes, or horses, or chocolates, or dogs. No, they are just human, for better or for worse. Nothing more and nothing less. Hinata is just Hinata, and Atsumu—well. Atsumu is just Atsumu. Beautiful, stupid. Kind and selfish all at once. The boy who’d walked all the way across campus just to bring Hinata soup on a cold day, the boy who’d do anything, anything at all for him. </p><p>God, Hinata misses Atsumu. Hinata misses him so much he feels hollow and empty and his heart aches like a bruise. He reaches into his pocket for his phone, and it doesn’t even matter that he’d deleted Atsumu from his contacts, because he knows the number by heart. </p><p>Atsumu picks up on the first ring. </p><p>“Shouyou-kun,” he says, and Hinata feels himself tearing up at the mere sound of Atsumu’s voice. </p><p>“Atsumu-san,” Hinata says, and he starts to cry. God, he hates crying, especially to Atsumu, but he can’t help it. “Atsumu-san, I miss you too. I’m sorry.” A sob racks his shoulders. “I miss you so much.”</p><p>There is pause on the line, a long silence that makes Hinata sick to his stomach. And then Atsumu speaks. </p><p>“Then come back, you idiot,” he says, and he sounds just as hoarse, just as broken. Gentle, loving. “Please. Come back. ” </p><p> </p><p>Falling into Atsumu’s arms, Hinata thinks, feels a lot like coming home. </p><p> </p><p>It’s been more than a month, so they are almost desperate in their touches, and yet everything is unbelievably gentle. <em> I’m sorry,</em> Hinata whispers against Atsumu’s skin, <em> I’m sorry, Atsumu-san, I’m sorry</em>, and Atsumu kisses the pale of his throat, almost worshipful: <em> I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry. I missed you. I missed you so much I thought I was gonna die. </em> </p><p>Atsumu is slow and gentle like he’s never been before, and under him, Hinata feels both fragile and strong. He looks at Atsumu, sees the pure adoration in his gaze, and he feels so much that he can hardly bear it. His tears come unbidden, but Hinata finds that he doesn’t quite mind. Atsumu notices right away, and he stills, a hand coming to stroke Hinata’s hair. </p><p>“Hey,” Atsumu murmurs, concerned, “hey, why’re you crying? Am I hurting you?”</p><p>Hinata smiles, watery. He reaches up to touch Atsumu’s cheek, wraps his legs around Atsumu’s waist.  Pulls him in closer. “You’re not hurting me, Atsumu-san,” he says, honest. “I love you, that’s all.”</p><p>“Oh,” Atsumu says, “<em>oh</em>,” and then he’s tearing up too, bringing up a hand to hide his eyes. “Shit, sorry, gimme a sec—”</p><p>Hinata laughs, gently moves Atsumu’s hand aside so he can see his face. “Atsumu-san,” he says, “don’t cry. We can’t both cry during sex.”</p><p>“Says who?” Atsumu demands, wiping at his eyes. He sniffs. “You can’t just—just say that and expect me <em> not </em> to cry, you know me—”</p><p>Hinata laughs again. “Sorry,” he says. “You’re right. Sorry.”</p><p>Atsumu exhales, heavy. “You love me,” he says. </p><p>“Of course I do,” Hinata says. “Haven’t I ever told you?”</p><p>“You have,” Atsumu says, “you have, but—” He leans down, kisses the tears from Hinata’s face. “Tell me again.” </p><p>Hinata smiles, puts his hands on Atsumu’s flushed cheeks. “I love you, Atsumu-san.” </p><p>Atsumu kisses him. “Again.”</p><p>“Getting greedy, are we?” Hinata says, teasing. But he relents, anyways. “I love you,” he says, punctuating it with a kiss, “I love you. I love you.” </p><p>Atsumu sighs shakily, but he’s grinning. Ebullient. He laughs, even as another tear trickles down his cheek. “I love you too,” he says. And then, “God, this is embarrassing.” </p><p>“Isn’t it?” Hinata says, reaching out to wipe the tear away. He smiles, too. “But that’s okay.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Atsumu says, “I guess it is.” </p><p>They stay like that for a moment, entwined, smiling at each other. And then Hinata tightens his hold with his legs, making Atsumu inhale sharply. </p><p>“So, Atsumu-san,” Hinata says, gently teasing, “are you gonna keep crying, or are you gonna fuck me?”</p><p>“I can do both!” Atsumu says indignantly, and Hinata bursts out laughing, tears and all, and lets Atsumu make good on his promise. </p><p> </p><p>A few hours later, Hinata steps out onto the front steps of Atsumu’s house for some air. It’s still pretty early—the street is empty and quiet. Hinata is wearing a pair of Atsumu’s slippers, a blanket wrapped around him in lieu of a jacket. The pain and longing in his chest have disappeared, replaced by quiet contentment, and he gazes out fondly at the scene before him, so mundane and yet so familiar and beloved. Last night’s snow has melted away; the sun is warm and gentle. If Hinata looks very closely, he can make out soft green buds on the bare branches of trees. </p><p>Behind him, the door opens, and Atsumu steps out, holding two mugs of tea. “Here,” he says. He passes one to Hinata, kisses him on the top of his head. </p><p>“Thanks,” Hinata says, smiling. He takes a sip, moves closer to Atsumu and leans his head on his shoulder. Atsumu puts an arm around his waist in return, and they just stay like that for a few moments, content. They haven’t talked properly yet, but they will. Hinata will make sure of that, even if Atsumu is scared. Even if they both are.</p><p>“I’m glad I’m not a horse,” Hinata says absently. “I like tomatoes.” </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Atsumu asks, bemused. </p><p>Hinata laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I love you, Atsumu-san. That’s all.” </p><p>It’s kind of funny, the way Atsumu blushes all the way down to his neck. He turns away, looking disgruntled and over the moon all at once. “Give a guy a warning, would you, Shouyou-kun?” </p><p>“Oh, you’ll get used to it,” Hinata says, and kisses him on the cheek. Atsumu blushes even harder, but he turns back to kiss Hinata gently on the lips, and they’re both smiling into it. </p><p>Maybe they are bad for each other. In fact, this is most likely true. But they’re young, too—they can grow and change. They can learn to be good. For each other, with each other. They’re both willing to try, anyways. </p><p>And maybe, Hinata thinks, that’s enough. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading! i really had so much fun writing this (i am unironically a horse girl), so i hope you guys enjoyed it! feel free to come talk 2 me on <a href="https://twitter.com/caniculeo">twitter</a>!</p><p>also, the tomato thing. i've heard it's mostly just the green parts of the plant that are toxic to some animals, so kageyama may just be misinformed. but idk. i didn't really research that hard. i just heard the words "tomato" and "horse" and my brain went brrrrrr.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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